


Boy, One Day You’ll Be A Man

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Established Relationship, Humor, Mpreg, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-15
Updated: 2007-07-15
Packaged: 2018-09-03 18:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8725306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam’s jeans start to fit a little tighter. The story that inspired "Look What Love Has Done."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** Boy, One Day You’ll Be A Man  
**Pairing:** Sam/Dean  
**Rating:** R - but don’t let that turn you off! 90% is PG/PG-13  
**Summary:** Sam’s jeans start to fit a little tighter  
**Warnings:** **Mpreg** , incest, fluff (at points)  
**Disclaimer:** They’re not mine, the “lullaby” is not mine, none of it’s mine! You happy?  
**Word Count:** 4351  
**Author's Note:** I don't actually know if I like this or not. I don't think I do, but I never do, so I guess you all will have to decide!  
**A/N 2:** : Partly inspired by the song Tough Little Boys by Gary Allen.  
  
  
  
  
When Sam’s jeans start to fit a little tighter, he ignores it. Because when it comes to Sam’s jeans, a little tighter means they actually fit, for once.  
  
When he starts having mood swings and weird cravings at midnight (and not of the sexual kind, which seriously depresses Dean), it pisses Dean off a little, _he_ didn’t do anything to make Sam scream at him, then start crying he realizes there was no pickles for his peanut butter sandwich.  
  
But when Sam starts to have a bump, an actual, visible _bump_ , and he says he can feel something in him, growing, Dean finally stops making fat cracks and PMS jokes, and lets Sam cry, not caring that his shirt is getting soaked with the tears.  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
Sam’s crying again, this time sitting cross-legged on the bed, clutching his pillow in his arms, nose red and puffy.  
  
“Sam,” Dean starts gently, sitting on the bed, “you need to stop crying. It’s not helping.”  
  
Sam nods knowingly, and he wipes his eyes, sniffles. “Dean, I’m pregnant!”  
  
“I know,” Dean says softly, rubbing Sam’s back. “I know, Sammy.”  
  
Sam starts crying again, face crumpling. “It’s Sam.” he wipes his eyes again, and grips the pillow closer. “Why me? _How_ me?”  
  
Dean shrugs. He doesn’t know what to say. He just doesn’t know. “Maybe…maybe it’s something runs in the family.”  
  
Sam glares at Dean in disbelief. “Runs in the family? Runs in the family? I don’t remember ever hearing any stories about the men in our family getting knocked up.”  
  
“Well yeah, Sam, but I don’t remember hearing anything about Grampa getting fucked in the ass either!” Dean snaps, dropping his hand from Sam’s back.  
  
They’re silent for minutes, both trying to calm down. Finally, Sam speaks. “Why not you? I mean, all the friggin’ times I’ve stuck it in you-”  
  
“Well maybe it’s like…why don’t girls get pregnant every time they have sex?”  
  
Sam nods, and tries to half-smile at Dean in apology. “Good point.”  
  
Dean raises and eyebrow, and his mouth opens slightly. “I _had_ a point? Sam, no really, why don’t girls get pregnant every time they have sex?”  
  
Sam groans, and falls back on the bed. It’s obvious Dean isn’t going to be any help during this.  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
“Sam,” Dean grits softly, reaching down to adjust himself in his jeans, “I’m horny goddamnit!”  
  
Sam looks at Dean, who’s looking back, face full of absolute despair. “Dean, I don’t-”  
  
“Please?” Dean asks, grabbing Sam’s hand. “Please? You can not expect me to go this long without actual sex. _Please_.”  
  
“Well, if that’s not the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Sam mumbles, but allows himself to be pulled to Dean anyway. “Dean, I don’t want to.”  
  
Dean stares at Sam in complete and utter disbelief. “You don’t- you’ve never said no- why not?”  
  
Sam looks at him, then gestures between them to his growing stomach. “I’m fat. I don’t want you to see me like this.”  
  
Dean can’t believe his ears. Sure, Sam’s put on a couple pounds, or you know, 20-ish, but Dean hasn’t mooed at him ever since they found out. He pulls Sam in and kisses him softly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Sammy.”  
  
“It’s Sam.”  
  
“Sammy,” Dean ignores his brother, and starts again, “you’re gorgeous. You’re not fat, you’re pregnant.”  
  
“Same thing!” Sam snaps, even though it really isn’t. “I mean, look at me. I’m gross!”  
  
“I am looking at you Sam, and I’m completely in love,” Dean says, not quite sure which maple tree this sap is coming from. “You’re all glow-y, and you’ve never been happier, and so what if you don’t have a six-pack anymore? Who cares? I don’t.”  
  
Sam sighs, and kisses Dean, fingers running through his cropped hair. Their lips and tongues move together slowly, but Dean thrusting against Sam’s thigh gives it a sense of urgency.  
  
Dean groans when Sam presses his thigh deliberately, against his cock, and he breaks the kiss to fumble with his belt. He undoes the button, and slides down the zipper, pushing his jeans and boxers down as far as he can. Sam’s only wearing boxers, he never gets fully dressed anymore, since he never goes out, and they slide down easily. “S-sam. How are we- how do you-”  
  
“Just fuck me,” Sam snaps, not sure if that’s the best thing right now, but he’ll be damned if he can’t have sex when he’s pregnant while women around the world can.   
  
“Yes,” Dean quietly cheers, and reaches over, grabbing the lube from the nightstand. He slides his fingers into Sam quickly, but still gently, then slicks himself up equally as fast before sinking into Sam, groans coming from both men. His hips are thrusting quickly, weeks of pent up energy needing to get out.   
  
“Dean,” Sam moans at a particularly hard thrust, and he grabs at Dean, pulling him in closer. “I love you.”  
  
Dean doesn’t answer; instead, he reaches a slicked hand between them and grasps Sam, working him quickly. Sam gasps and groans and arches just a little, and spills into Dean’s hand.  
  
Dean lets out a matching gasp, and comes, collapsing onto Sam. “Christ Sammy.”  
  
Sam rolls his eyes and shoves Dean off his stomach. “I love you,” he says again, and gives Dean a quick peck on the lips.  
  
Dean smiles and throws his arm around Sam’s shoulder, pulling him onto his own chest. “I love you too.”  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
“You’re sure it’s mine?” Dean asks, months later.  
  
Sam glares at Dean, and goes back to flipping through the catalogue.   
  
“No incubus, succubus…no Lillith?” Dean continues on, ignoring Sam’s glare.  
  
“Yes, Dean,” Sam answers, pointing to something on the page. “Should we get it in blue?”  
  
“Huh?” Dean looks quickly down at the page, to where Sam’s finger is beside a picture of a sleeper set. “Yeah, sure.”  
  
“What about shoes? Babies don’t actually need those little tiny sneakers, do they?” Sam asks, looking at Dean.  
  
Dean shakes his head. “Not until they walk. Now, Sam-”  
  
“He’s getting a crib, right? He needs a crib,” Sam continues on.  
  
Dean rolls his eyes, and then his head his in his hands. “Sam, would you- stop shopping for a second!”  
  
Sam huffs, and closes the magazine, crossing his arms, waiting for Dean. “Well?”  
  
“Okay,” Dean says graciously, raising his head. “Are you sure that it’s yours, and you’re not just like, an oven for-”  
  
“Dean!” Sam snaps. “Yes! He’s ours! Now stop trying to pass him off as someone else’s and shut up.”  
  
“You- you think it’s a boy?” Dean asks, leaning forward in his chair. “We’re having a boy?”  
  
Sam rests his hands on his stomach and smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I think we’re having a boy.” He grasps Dean’s hand and places it on his tummy, warmth seeping in through the thin cotton shirt.  
  
Dean smiles, and fans out his fingers, eyes wide in wonder as the baby kicked. “My boy.”  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
“I’m the father, and you’re the father,” Sam says in bed one morning, shifting awkwardly on his backs. Times like these he feels like a beached whale.  
  
“Uh-huh,” Dean replies sleepily, throwing an arm over Sam’s chest.   
  
Sam’s quiet for a few moments, thinking. “But- but that makes us his uncles too.”  
  
Dean rolls his eyes, looking up at Sam. They’ve had this conversation before. Well, Sam’s tried to. “And you’re the mom! That’s freaky shit right there, Sammy.”  
  
Sam smacks Dean’s arm. “Dean, I’m serious here. What is he going to call us? What are we to him?”  
  
Dean snuggles into Sam, pressing a kiss to his collarbone, the only part he can reach. “We’re his parents.”  
  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
“Dean!” Sam cries out in the middle of the night, clutching at the bed sheets.   
  
Dean mumbles and rolls over, lips smacking as he sleeps.   
  
Sam groans in pain, and hits Dean’s arm. “Goddamnit Dean, _wake up_!”  
  
“Sam?” Dean asks, finally waking up. “Whasgoinon?”  
  
“T-the baby,” Sam groans, clasping Dean’s hand in his. Hard. “”Dean, the baby.”  
  
“It’s coming?” Dean asks, making sure he’s not missing something. At Sam’s nod, Dean jumps up and out of bed. “It’s coming! Holy shit Sam, he’s coming. Our baby-”  
  
“Shut up!” Sam screams, clutching at his stomach. “And get him out of me!”  
  
Dean snaps his fingers and nods. “Right, right. Out. Wait- out? H-h-how do we-”  
  
“Bobby said we have to cut him out,” Sam reminds him softly, trying to calm Dean down.  
  
“Cut- Sam, I am not _mutilating_ you! Fuck that. Push it out.”  
  
Sam just stares up at Dean, as if to say ‘fuck you’. “Push? You want me to push this out of me? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so Dean. Get a blade, bandages, thread-”  
  
It’s then Dean faints.  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
The baby coos and gurgles up at Sam and Dean, and Sam sighs, stroking his son’s silk soft hair. “He’s so beautiful.”  
  
Dean nods, and presses his lips to Sam’s in an almost chaste kiss, then he tilts his head and kisses the baby, inhaling the scent. “Of course he is. Looks like his Dad.”  
  
Sam giggles. “Which one?”  
  
Dean chuckles back, and lets the baby’s fingers wrap around the end of his. “He’s so tiny. I’ve never seen anything this tiny. Not even you.”  
  
“Dean,” Sam begins.  
  
“Hmm?” Dean asks, not looking at his brother, instead, he’s fascinated by his son. “Aren’t you just the cutest whittle boys there ever was? Yes you are, yes you are.”  
  
“He still needs a name,” Sam reminds him.  
  
Dean looks up at Sam, then leans his head on his shoulder. “I don’t know. I want Dad to be there somewhere, but-”  
  
“I always liked the name Alexander,” Sam says softly, turning to face Dean, looking his brother in the eyes.   
  
“Alexander?” Dean repeats.   
  
Sam nods. “It means ‘protector of mankind’. I think it suits us. Suits Dad.”  
  
Dean leans in brushes Sam’s lips with his, teasing ever-so-slightly with his tongue. “Alexander Johnathan Winchester.”  
  
Alexander lets out a tiny yawn from Sam’s arms, and Sam does the same.  
  
“Give him here,” Dean commands, holding out his arms. Alexander’s tiny face crumples, and he begins to cry as he’s passed between the men, and Sam snuggles down onto his side, watching Dean with Alexander.   
  
After awhile, Sam allows himself to be lulled to sleep by the “lullaby” Dean’s singing, intended for the baby.  
  
“Carry on my wayward son, for there'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more.”  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
Sam never leaves Alexander’s side, the tiny bundle is always either in his reach or in his arms. The only other person ever allowed to hold him is Dean. Not that they’re around a lot of other people these days.  
  
“D-Dean, you’re not watching his head, you have to support his head- give him to me.” Sam reaches out his long arms, but Dean just turns away.   
  
“I can do it Sam!” Dean snaps lightly, not wanting to upset Alexander. “He’s 10 months, he doesn’t even need his head supported anymore. He is my son too you know. Don’t forget that.”  
  
Alexander giggles and claps his tiny hands.  
  
Dean walks away from Sam, and sits in a chair, bouncing Alexander lightly on his knee. “Yes, whittle baby boy. Your daddies are just fighting, but you still wook so cute. Yes you do, yes you do. Baba, whittle baby.”  
  
Alexander giggles again and grabs onto Dean’s shirt. “Daddy.”  
  
Dean stops bouncing him, and glances over to Sam, who’s watching them with wonder.   
  
“Did he just-” Sam starts.  
  
“Uh-huh,” Dean nods, and looks at his son. “He just said Daddy.”  
  
Sam jumps off the bed and runs over to them, kneeling at Dean’s feet. “Alex, did you just talk?”  
  
Alexander smiles, a couple of teeth already in his grin. “Daddy.”  
  
Sam grins, and sets his hand on Dean’s knee.  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
It’s Alexander’s third birthday, and they’re just passing through, not even quite sure what state they’re in, but it has a restaurant that has no problem with Sam and Dean singing Happy Birthday.  
  
“C’me here Alex,” Sam says sternly, wanting to wipe ice-dream off his son’s face.  
  
Alexander shakes his head, hair flying into his eyes.  
  
“Alex, you promised Daddy you’d stay clean if I didn’t make you cut your hair,” Sam reminds him, getting out of his seat, and kneeling in front of Alexander, getting to his level. “Alex, remember?”  
  
Alexander nods slowly, but his eyes are looking out the window, mouth slightly open, looking in that moment, exactly like Dean. He points, and says, “Ski men.”  
  
Sam and Dean turn just in time to see two men in ski masks, each holding a gun, come into the restaurant. Sam grabs Alexander’s arm and yanks him to the floor, under the table, gripping him tight in his arms.  
  
Dean thinks differently, and doesn’t just slide off his chair; he stands to go to the other side of the table, but standing isn’t a good idea, and in a second he’s got a gun on him.  
  
“On your knees!”  
  
Sam holds Alexander even tighter in his arms, trying not to cry.   
  
“Daddy,” Alexander mumbles into Sam’s neck, trying to wiggle free.  
  
“Shh,” Sam comforts, kissing the side of Alexander’s head.  
  
Dean raises his hands and drops slowly to his knees. He knows he could take this guy out in a second, but it would take him longer to get to the second than it would for a gun to go off. He’s not taking that risk, not now, with Alexander. “Hey mister, I don’t want any tro-”  
  
“Shut up!” the robber screams, and Sam hears the cock of the gun, and he squeezes his eyes shut.  
  
“Please,” Dean begs, tears stinging at his eyes. “I have a son, please don’t kill me.”  
  
“Give me your wallet,” the masked man demands, glancing at his partner, who’s getting antsy, ready to go.  
  
Dean obeys, hands shaking as he digs into his pocket. But before he can hand off the wallet, the gun goes off.  
  
“No!” Sam screams.  
  
“Holy shit,” the other robber says, looking at his partner on the floor. “I’m out of here!” He opens up the door runs.  
  
“Sam?” Dean asks breathlessly. He turns his head to see Alexander looking over Sam’s shoulder, gazing intently at the gun floating in the air.  
  
Sam gasps and turns, seeing Dean, the robber, the gun. He shakes his head slowly, and they both look to Alexander.  
  
“Alex,” Dean starts softly.   
  
Alexander snaps back to attention, his large green eyes looking to Dean.  
  
Behind Dean, the gun clatters to the floor.  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
“Oh god,” Sam moans, pulling Dean down for another kiss, locking his ankles around Dean’s lower back.  
  
Dean thrusts in again, and Sam moans even louder. “You’re still so tight,” Dean breathes hotly into Sam’s ear. “Fuck, I love you.”  
  
Sam’s throw his head back, exposing what seems like miles of golden skin. Then, above the sound of his own moans, and Dean’s harsh breathing, they hear it.  
  
A giggle.  
  
“Not again,” Dean groans, hips stopping, his head falling forward.  
  
Sam laughs, then sits up, pushing Dean half off him. He sees eyes peering into the room from the doorway. He crooks his finger, motioning for Alexander to come in.  
  
Dean pulls out of Sam and rolls off him, grabbing at the blankets to cover them. “Christ Sam, don’t let him in-"  
  
“Alex,” Sam says sternly, but there’s still a slight smile on his face.   
  
Alexander walks into the room slowly, his eyes on the floor, his pyjama top riding up just a little.   
  
“What did Daddy and I tell you last time?”  
  
Alexander looks up at them, biting his lip. “Knock.”  
  
“Knock,” Sam agrees. “You know this is our room. We knock when we go into your room.”  
  
Alexander nods, and then looks to the floor again. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Good,” Sam says, patting a spot on bed.  
  
Alexander grins and runs over to the bed, then hops up, working his way in between Sam and Dean.  
  
“Sam,” Dean grits through his teeth. “Don’t you think what we were doing is a little more important?”  
  
Sam raises an eyebrow and pulls Alexander up so that his son’s standing on a thigh. “Than our son?” He leans forward, and blows raspberry where the pyjama top moved up.   
  
Alexander giggles and kicks as Sam grabs onto him, then stands up off the bed. “Upside down!” Alexander says to Sam, and Sam wraps his arms tightly around his waist, turning him upside down.  
  
“He’s too big for that,” Dean mumbles, then he sighs. He grabs a sheet to cover himself, then gets off the bed. “I can’t freakin’ believe- I’m taking a shower!”  
  
Sam smiles, then turns Alexander upright, holding him to his side. “Alex, you’re almost seven, shouldn’t you be sleeping alone?”  
  
“Things in my room move,” Alexander tells him. “The shadows scare me too.”  
  
Sam’s about to answer when a satisfied groan filters into the room from the bathroom.  
  
“What’s Daddy doing?” Alexander asks, looking towards the bathroom door.  
  
Sam just shakes his head, and lifts Alexander up into the air, and Alexander soon forgets the question.  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
“Your son is telling the other students about the boogeyman,” the principal tells them, staring down Sam and Dean.  
  
Dean shakes his head, and smiles, looking at Sam.  
  
The principal continues. “Vampires.”  
  
Dean can barely contain his laughter at that. “Funnier every time I hear it. Right Sam?”  
  
Sam smiles at Dean politely, before back to the principal.  
  
“Demons. Alexander is scaring the kids, and other parents are complaining that their children are having nightmares.”  
  
“They should be scared,” Dean mumbles.  
  
“Dean!” Sam snaps under his breath, shaking his head sternly at Dean. “Not here.”  
  
The principal looks at Dean, “Mr. Winchester,” then to Sam, “Mr….Winchester,”  
  
Sam smiles.  
  
“Please control your son, before we are forced to punish him. Nine is not a good age to start a career of trouble.”  
  
“I was eight when I got my first detention,” Dean snaps, defending his son, “and I turned out fine. It’s not our fault those kids parents don’t want them to know the truth?”  
  
“The truth, Mr. Winchester?” the principal raises an eyebrow. “What truth is that? The truth that Alexander seems to have a near genius I.Q., but due to the fact he doesn’t do his homework, or pay attention at _all_ in class, almost no potential?”  
  
“Genius?” Sam repeats. “As in-”  
  
“Genius,” the principal affirms. “But he shows no interest in school work; despite of his I.Q. I believe he’ll just have to graduate with the rest of his classmates, if that time ever comes. But Alexander does have, well, a very powerful mind, it seems.”  
  
“We know,” Dean says, shifting in his chair. “Believe me, we know.”  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
Alexander knocks lightly at the bedroom door. “Can I come in?”  
  
“Sure,” Dean says from his spot on the floor, where there’s at least a dozen newspaper articles surrounding him, each reporting missing women. He looks up at Alexander as he shut the door behind him. “What’s going on?”  
  
Alexander pushes a couple paper out of the way, and sits down, bringing his knees to his chest. “Remember how I told you we did Sex Ed a couple weeks ago?”  
  
Dean nods and sits up, cracking his back. “Yeah, you said.”  
  
Alexander shifts on the floor, playing with his jeans. “MmsheetswrewetwhenIwokeup,” he mumbles quickly, words running together.  
  
Dean leans forward. “Uh, what?”  
  
Alexander blushes slightly, and leans into his father. “My sheets…were, uh, you know, wet,” he says the last word in a whisper, “when I woke up.”  
  
Dean squints his eyes, then they open wide in understanding. “My son! His first wet dream!” He pats Alexander on the shoulder. “I should get Sam in here.”  
  
“Dad!” Alexander pleads, eyes going wide. “This is not a photo op here, it’s embarrassing.”  
  
“Aw, no,” Dean assures him, “it’s normal. You heard those people in Sex Ed. Every guy gets what dreams.”  
  
Alexander nods, then looks around the room, eyes falling to the articles on the floor. “What is this? Who are these women?”  
  
“They went missing,” Dean answers, grabbing them all to put in a pile.  
  
“All of them?” Alexander asks, in disbelief.  
  
“Yup,” Dean answers. “17 women, 25 years, one road. No one knows where they went.”  
  
“Are you going to find them?”  
  
Dean looks at Alexander, and bites his lips. “I don’t know,” he says finally. “You know, before you came along, we’d spend all our time trying to, but that’s just not realistic now. We have to take care of you first.”  
  
“I could help!” Alexander protests. “You and Dad were only young when you started to do this, saving people, hunting things.”  
  
“I know, but we had your Grampa,” Dean reminds him.  
  
“I’d have both of you,” Alexander points out. He reaches over and picks up an article, reading it over, before his eyelids start to flicker, and his hands shake.   
  
“Alex?” Dean asks, fear coming through in his voice. He gets up on his knees, and snatches the articles the his son’s hands. The shaking stops and Alexander looks up at Dean in awe.  
  
“Dad.”  
  
“Are you okay?” Dean asks, pulling Alexander in for a tight hug.  
  
“They’re in an underground thing,” Alexander says into his father’s shirt.  
  
Dean pulls away, and looks Alexander in the eyes. “What?”  
  
Alexander looks back at his father, his green eyes matching his father’s stare. “I saw them.”  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
Sam keeps his hands over Alexander’s eyes as Dean leads him out to driveway.  
  
“Now Alex, you better treat this baby with same respect you treat a lady,” Dean commands, glancing up at Sam when his brother clears his throat. “Or a man, whatever. Anyway, we got this for you, both of us, so don’t just thank me.”  
  
Sam tilts his head only slightly and presses his lips to Alexander’s head. “Happy Birthday.”  
  
“Aw Dad, gross!” Alexander cries, but Sam just smiles.  
  
“Shut up Alex, you’re 16, I’ll never get to do it again.”  
  
Dean pulls the sheet off the car. “Okay Sam, move the hands.”  
  
Sam does, and Alexander just stares. “That’s it? Come on guys, it’s old.”  
  
Dean mock gasps, and clutches his heart, dropping to the asphalt. “Sam- can’t- oh my god. _Old!_ “  
  
Sam rushes over and grabs Dean, pulling him in close, holding his head to his chest. “It’s okay Dean, let it out.  
  
“It’s not old!” Dean screams. “A 1972 Chevy Camaro is a great car! You should be so lucky! Sammy? My heart- light at the end of the tunnel. Save me.”  
  
Alexander rolls his eyes. “Come on. Please? Not outside!”  
  
“Kiss me Sam!” Dean cries, pulling Sam in for a bruising kiss.  
  
“Oh Christ,” Alexander mutters, walking away. “Come in before the neighbours spray you with a hose!”  
  
Sam slips his tongue into Dean’s mouth and Dean’s grip on Sam’s hair increases, then they fall back together, Sam on top, pressing Dean into the driveway.  
  
“Dude, I think there’s gravel in my hair.”  
  
 

**…….**

  
  
If Dean thought it was hard sending Sam to college, it was even harder saying goodbye to Alexander. He looked too much like Sam these days; it was like saying goodbye to his son and his lover at the same time.  
  
“You uh, you call,” Sam says, trying to hold back his tears, “anytime. Screw the time difference. Anytime, promise?”  
  
Alexander nods, and pulls Sam into a tight hug, their heights almost equal. “I love you, Dad.”  
  
Sam nods and pulls away, kissing Alexander’s forehead. “I love you too.” He lets go, and lets Alexander go to Dean.  
  
“Well, uh,” Dean shifted on his feet, “the, uh…the car, she’ll need check-ups.”  
  
Alexander nods sharply. “Yes sir.”  
  
“Don’t get any girls, or boys,” he looks at Sam out of the corner of his eye, “in trouble. But if you do, okay, you can always come to us. Always. No matter what. Anything you need, we’ll be here. And you’ll always be welcome.”  
  
Sam smiles, and sucks his lip into his mouth, tears threatening to spill over. This goodbye is so different than his own was.  
  
“And you know,” Dean stammers, “take care of yourself.”  
  
“Yes sir,” Alexander nods. They both shift on their feet, looking around awkwardly before Dean cracks, and he grabs Alexander, pulling in for a hug, Dean crying.  
  
“I’ll miss you!” Dean sobs, sniffling into Alexander’s shirt.  
  
“Me too,” Alexander says, holding his Dad for a bit longer, before pulling away. “I uh, I should get going, don’t wanna be late.” He walks to his car, and climbs in, turning the key in the ignition, then he turns on the radio, the opening chords of Highway to Hell ringing through the air.  
  
Both Sam and Dean smile, Dean wiping his eyes as Sam chuckles.  
  
Alexander waves, then pulls out of the driveway, and waves again as he goes down the street.  
  
Sam sighs, then pulls Dean in, kissing his forehead. “I love you.”  
  
Dean tilts his head and kisses Sam’s lips. “I love you too. We did okay with him, didn’t we?”  
  
Sam nods and wraps an arm around Dean. “We did great.”  
  
They stand there for minutes longer, just wrapped up together, before Dean pulls away, standing to Sam’s side.   
  
“Well Sammy-”  
  
“Sam,” he corrects.  
  
“Sammy,” Dean continues. “Empty house.”  
  
“Yup,” Sam nods, bouncing on the balls of his feet.  
  
“No kid for the first time in 18 years.”  
  
“Yup,” Sam repeats, watching Dean out of the corner of his eye.  
  
Dean grasps Sam’s hand, and brings it up to his lips, kissing his wedding finger, bare of a ring even after all these years. “We can make us much noise as we want.”  
  
Sam giggles, and lets himself be dragged back into the house. “I am not gonna be the one pregnant this time!”  
 


End file.
